


Alight Here

by ominousrum



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Northern!Kristoff, Pining, Welsh!Anna, the London Underground AU nobody knew they wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 20:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9785135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ominousrum/pseuds/ominousrum
Summary: a gift for the lovely Anna





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [upthenorthmountain (aw264641)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aw264641/gifts).



> a gift for the lovely Anna

Kristoff Bjorgman preferred to sleep on the tube, a precious respite for his weary muscles, his broad, stocky frame creeping into the seat next to him. After a long day of landscaping work, both body and mind wanted nothing apart from rest. Fortunately he was usually able to get through the long commute with as minimal human interaction as possible. There would be an occasional jostle from a passenger occupying the seat in next to him; often an errant elbow belonging to a teenager scrolling and typing on their smartphone or someone re-arranging the shopping bags on their lap. He got used to waking when he reached certain stops, keeping one sleepy eye open for anyone in need of a seat. He scowled at those who refused to stand for the elderly or pregnant commuters. Forty minutes each way if there were no service re-routes. He tried not to think about all the minutes in his life that had already ticked by.

He noticed her first not for her vibrant auburn hair (usually plaited neatly) or for her seemingly endless ocean blue eyes or even for the eye-catching mustard tights she was wont to wear. He first noticed her for her restlessness – there was almost a physical hum in her presence. The London Underground didn’t exactly provide a welcoming atmosphere, regardless of the line it happened to be traversing. Initially he had raised an eyebrow at her and made a mental note to keep an eye out for any erratic behaviour on her part. You never did know on the tube and it was always better to err on the side of caution. He watched her as discreetly as he could, her navy pumps tapping what he could only guess was an imaginary tune as she was headphone-less. Her hands twisted in the hem of her ruby skirt as her eyes seemed to look on every face in the carriage, hoping for an acknowledgement. Kristoff pretended to be asleep whenever her gaze fell to him.

He began to notice her every day, memorizing her routine. She would get on at Waterloo, sometimes carrying a coffee, sometimes attempting to devour a falafel wrap as gracefully as possible. When he wasn’t sneaking glances, he was listening to her make small talk (“This weather is so dreadful!” or “What do you think is the most you’ve ever eaten in one go?”). He felt his mouth curve into a smile as the longer she was ignored, the more ridiculous her questions became. She sang softly to herself when all else failed. He could tell the favourite moments of her journey were when she would give up her seat and immediately begin to chat the ear off of an old lady who would smile her thanks shyly. They would proceed to call the redhead “love” and “pet” and any number of endearments before patting her arm goodbye as they arrived at their destination. He would then watch her depart at Chalk Farm. He tried not to read too much into the swift decline of his mood whenever this happened.

He found himself thinking about her in those concentrated silences at work, hands and arms busy, mind wandering. What was her name? He had nearly caught it once, just before someone turned on their music. How old was she? Probably too young for you to be staring at, he would chastise himself. He tried to place her accent – it definitely wasn’t Northern like his own, though he didn’t find it to sound very Southern either. The lilt in her voice was warm but not particularly strong overall. She must be taken. There’s no way she isn’t taken…

***

It was a bog standard Wednesday. Kristoff had been distracted at work. He watched the clock. He felt as if he would dissolve into his boots, finally succumbing to boredom. A dog, a handmade wardrobe and a freezer full of readymade meals the only things to show for his 27 years.  Then she sat next to him. His heart started to thunder in his chest as he shifted awkwardly closer to the plexiglass surrounding the doors.

“No no no no no. I _just_ had it!” The redhead lamented, burrowing into her slouchy brown leather bag. A lipstick broke free and began to roll under the opposite seat. She bit her lip and checked each pocket methodically, a frustrated whimper escaping her as each search came up fruitless. “Have you ever had an Oyster card just get up and walk away?” she asked towards Kristoff, sighing.

Kristoff opened his mouth, all sound apparently having evaporated. He gave her a commiserating smile. Her face brightened. A cold sweat broke out on his palms.

“I’ve seen you before. Well actually I see you every day. Not that I’ve been stalking you or anything! It’s just hard not to notice someone like you.” Her blush threatened to engulf the pretty freckles that dotted her small nose and cheeks. “That probably makes it sound worse. I meant you’re tall and gorgeous so you naturally draw attention. Oh shut up, Anna.” She buried her face in her hands.

_She thinks I’m gorgeous._ **_She_** thinks **_I’m_ ** gorgeous. Clearly I’ve fallen through an alternate dimension where everything is the exact opposite of what it should be. Say something, you idiot. Say anything.

“Uh.. Where did you last use your Oyster?” Kristoff managed to stammer, his brown eyes refusing to meet hers.

“Right before I got on! I always put it back in the same pocket just here” Anna pointed to the innermost zippered pocket amongst a sea of receipts and candy wrappers.

“Hmm” Kristoff offered, suddenly feeling like the most uninteresting person on the planet.

“Luckily I have enough coins on me for a day ticket. Still, ugh! Is it only Wednesday?” Anna threw her hands up in exasperation.

Welsh, Kristoff thought. It’s tricky as it’s somewhat faint but my money’s on Welsh.

“I’m Anna, by the way. Oh you already heard that in the midst of my babbling, no doubt.” She offered a tiny hand, brushing Kristoff’s chest. He steeled himself to remain emotionless as an electric charge shot through him. He raised hand to touch hers briefly and managed to choke out “Kris-Kristoff.”


	2. Chapter 2

Kristoff became increasingly appalled at his behaviour over the next month. He wasn’t even sure he was Kristoff anymore, whenever he stopped to think about it. Maybe aliens had taken over his brain and would soon begin to their insidious plans to overthrow the Earth. Yes, that was completely plausible. The only alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

In the last few weeks Kristoff had found himself whistling on the job not once, not twice but no less than six times. Last Tuesday Jamie had asked him with an admirably straight face if he was whistling Love Machine by Girls Aloud. Jamie had been fortunate enough to duck at just the right moment to avoid the nearly empty can of Coke hurled at his head. Kristoff was beginning to feel like there was a hole in his head where common sense was rapidly spilling out. One Sunday after his weekly trip to the shops, he stood at the front door to his flat struggling and cursing at the doorknob for a full five minutes before realising he had failed to unlock the door, keys still in hand.

Anna sat next to him nearly every trip these days. Her face immediately brightening once she caught sight of him from the end of the platform. It had gotten to the point where Kristoff would openly scowl at whoever attempted to sit next to him when he knew Anna’s stop was approaching. He would wait until he saw her slender legs rushing towards him, hands waving cheerfully at him, before standing to offer her his seat in one fluid motion.

“No, no you’ve earned that seat! Sit your wee bum down.” Anna would scoff at him. Passengers then often shuffled away awkwardly from the fast friends, allowing them both a spot.

Despite the long days of work, Kristoff found his words flowing easily whenever he spoke to Anna. The rarity of this accentuated by Anna being uncharacteristically quiet whilst he spoke, leaning towards him, eyes sparkling with amusement. The moment she clasped her hand on his arm to coax more words from him, a sharp spike in temperature swallowed his voice.

He had discovered Anna Erwood had one sister, Elsa, both brought up by their cousin Gerda (“Gerd used to say I’ve a bell on every tooth.”). Anna worked in a wedding cake shop, assisting the head pastry chef (“I only get to eat an eyeful, mind you!”). He grinned at the colloquialisms and flat-out asked if she was Welsh the day she arrived clad in an olive green Catatonia t-shirt. Anna had beamed her confirmation at him, Kristoff’s stomach somersaulting with one look at her sweet face. _What is this strange emotion? She’s out of your league, Bjorgman._

“Now for something gravely important..” Anna began one drizzly Monday, her normally glittering eyes reduced to a somber azure as if filtered from under a thin lampshade.

Kristoff thought better of the laugh in his throat as he fiddled with the buttons on his coat. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to not talk about religion or politics after working 12 hours. Or ever, really.”

“I assure you this is imperative to all our future interactions! Answer truthfully, please – do you take sugar in your tea?” Anna’s deadpan delivery caused Kristoff to snort with laughter.

 _Wait – she wants to have future interactions with me?_ He sputtered, choking on his saliva in pure confusion. The resounding thwack of Anna slapping his back snapped him back to reality.

“Y’alright, Kris?”

***

After all this time, Kristoff had neglected to ask the one question that would surely deflate his hopes completely. He had no idea if Anna was single, apart from noting she didn’t wear any jewellery on her ring finger.

“How can she be single?” he asked his dog Sven, the two curled up on the sofa. The springer spaniel cocked his head to the side to stare at Kristoff quizzically before exhaling in derision.

“And anyway, I should be grateful to have found a friend as wonderful as Anna.” Kristoff froze, the impact of his words knocking the wind out of his chest.

_Damnit._

Kristoff tried to deny the feelings that were suddenly all around him. Every trip to the pub he imagined Anna sitting with him, charming his friends effortlessly. Every time he portioned out pasta to cook for his tea, he imagined cooking for Anna. The grey of his everyday life now even more harrowing that he knew such fantastic colour.

 _A drink. I’ll ask her out for a drink. Casually. I mean, her face is so expressive I should know right off if she doesn’t like me._ Kristoff rationalized, trying desperately not to think of what a look of disappointment from Anna may do to him.

All through Sunday he paced the flat, Sven punctuating the answers to Kristoff’s practice questions with excited barks. Tomorrow he would be ready, no sense in prolonging this torture any longer.

Monday’s workday was a haze of monotony. Kristoff constantly needing to steel himself against the tiredness threatening to engulf him, his head aching dully.

Kristoff got on the tube in a flurry of nerves and immediately began tapping his right boot anxiously. His hands flew to his collar, fidgeting against already smoothed points. Dressed in his favourite plaid shirt.

One more stop. Shallow breaths fumbling into steady ones as his palms broke out in a fine sweat.

“Alight here for Bakerloo lines, riverboats and National Rail Services.” The robotic announcement chimed. Kristoff felt a lump rise in his throat as his eyes searched the carriages for the pretty ginger.

For the first time in two months, Anna was nowhere to be seen.


	3. Chapter 3

After the initial shock of not seeing Anna’s face on Monday (that face that seemed to float in front of his eyes at every turn), Kristoff’s rational mind started to erode the panic tingling in every muscle in his body. 

By Monday night his spirits had lifted, aided in part by whisky poured neat and distraction in the form of a Spaced marathon on telly. She’s probably sick. I bet she’s even cuter when she’s sick. God, I wish I were there to take care of her. 

Tuesday the anticipation of possibly seeing Anna again bubbled in his very veins. The eloquent speeches and the careful, not-absolutely-crushed looks he practiced so diligently on Sunday would surely fly far away from his conscious mind as soon as he needed them; but he didn’t care. All he could hope for was to see her again and make sure she didn’t disappear out of his life completely.

Work had been a cyclone of activity. Kristoff wired as much of his buzzing mind into his tasks as possible; ensuring his work was perfect. He practically ran towards the tube as soon as his shift was over. He decided standing would give him the best possible vantage point to scope out the entire platform. Maybe Anna had been running for the tube and got into a carriage further down rather than in her usual spot. Maybe she had been late and caught another train. 

Kristoff weaved his head around the increasing number of commuters piling in at various stations, shifting his position for the most unobstructed spot. Next. It’s her stop next. 

Heat prickled at the back of his neck as the train pulled into the station. He scanned tops of heads as dozens of people-shaped blurs slipped within his view. No gingers by sight alone. Maybe she’s wearing a hat. His own brain seemed to be mocking him now. The chime of the door immediately curling his lips into a faint smile. 

Before he could blink it seemed the train was departing. Kristoff’s stomach fell to his feet. 

Tuesday ended as badly as Monday.

***

 

Wednesday the real worry started to set in. Worry arriving in the form of overbrewed, forgotten tea and missed bottom steps. Worry clouding all logic as Kristoff spun fantastical scenarios of what horrible things had happened to Anna. Worry had an answer for every speck of common sense.

She’s probably on holiday, maybe her and her sister took a trip to the Maldives. Anna surely would have mentioned an exciting event like that you idiot, worry chimed in. 

The hours at work seemed to drag. The disconnection between mind and body too vast for Kristoff to be remotely productive. He kept thinking of Anna’s smile, the way her eyes seemed to dance with light, how her laughter never seemed forced. Laughter tumbled out of her like water.

He sat in his usual seat and stared straight ahead. The passengers sat opposite him moving after several minutes, too unnerved by a burly man looking right through them. 

Kristoff tried his best not to get his hopes up as the next stop was announced but as soon as the doors opened his head whipped around to search for Anna.

Wednesday ended in merciful numbness. 

***

 

Kristoff met Thursday with apathy. He couldn’t do anything to find out what had happened to Anna. He made a mental note to add useless amongst the adjectives of coward and fool he had already assigned to himself this week. 

What was the point, anyway? Why was he getting this upset over a woman he’d only known for a couple of months? Nevermind the fact he’d only known her from brief interactions on the tube.

You know why, his brain would taunt.  Kristoff kicked the tree whose branches he was trimming. His colleagues stopped asking him how he was. 

Thursday ended with an evening at the pub, seven pints and a half-eaten kebab. 

***

Relief permeated all of Friday. Relief that the week was nearly over. Relief that, come Saturday, he wouldn’t have to ride the stupid tube and be reminded of not seeing that stupid face he wanted to stupidly see. The most important relief being that the sooner this week was over the better the chance he would see Anna again. Stupid hope springs eternal, he thought. 

The idea that her holiday or leave from work may be over by Monday remained swimming happily in the back of Kristoff’s mind as he worked at a leisurely pace. He smiled freely at nearly anything; at the smell of the grass and wet earth, at the feel of callouses on his hands. Friday was wonderful!

Kristoff stepped onto the tube eager to get comfortable. He dozed most of the way home, his eyes only prying open two stops before the only one that mattered. 

He shrugged to himself in preparation for the inevitable disappointment of Anna not showing up. Who could blame her for wanting a week off? I’m sure she’ll have a million stories to share, Kristoff grinned broadly. 

His smile fading only marginally when the doors gave their closing chime. It’ll be Monday before I know it. 

Friday ended in peace and pizza. 

***

 

Sven was clearly excited his owner had managed to snap out of the rather annoying funk he happened to be in, as they went for exceptionally long walks both Saturday and Sunday. Happy barks rang in the air as Kristoff tossed stick after stick in the park, Sven dutifully bringing them back for another go. 

Kristoff managed to drag himself to the barbershop on Sunday afternoon for a desperately needed trim and a straight razor shave. Anna’s voice flitted through his head, he imagined her commenting on his haircut in her Welsh lilt. It really wasn’t fair to the world at large for a woman to have such a sweet voice in addition to all her other charms. 

He knew that even if all they ever shared were silly conversations about cakes and music on the tube, it would be enough. Finding out how horrible nothing was made everything far easier to give up. 

***

 

Hope curled like growing ivy around all of Monday. Kristoff had in-depth conversations with Anna in his head, asking all about the missing week. Work appeared to last mere minutes as Kristoff was soon walking to the tube with a bounce in his step at the end of the day. 

He stood up three stops before Anna’s and walked from one end of the carriage to the other, much to the chagrin of his fellow passengers who sighed their annoyance as they leaned out of his way.  

Kristoff inhaled slowly to calm himself as the signs for Waterloo flashed past. A dull ache pulsated in his chest, his eyes darting from face to face as none met his gaze with recognition. 

This Monday was the worst day yet. 

***

 

As soon as he set his keys down after work on Monday, Kristoff searched the phone directory for Anna’s name. If anything he reasoned he had to know if she was okay. He cursed for a full ten minutes when he found nothing listed. 

Anna hadn’t mentioned the name of the pastry shop where she worked and Kristoff imagined there would be dozens of similar shops in every suburb in London. 

He called in sick for Tuesday; hopeless and heart-broken. 

Kristoff slept until Sven licked the entirety of his face as a wake-up call around 10. He dragged himself out of bed and around the block for Sven to do his business before burying himself back in bed 15 minutes later. 

By 2pm he had managed to eat a Pot Noodle. By 4 he had successfully stood under a running shower for 2 minutes and gotten dressed afterwards.

I’ll go to Waterloo. I’ll look for Anna at Waterloo station. I have to try, I have to know. 

Kristoff ran all the way to the nearest station.

***

 

Kristoff sat on a bench in the middle of the Northbound platform at Waterloo station, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. He laughed bitterly at the notion he would surely come across as a stalker if he was fortunate enough to see Anna again. Still worth it to know she’s alright he thought with a sad smile.

45 minutes past the time he used to expect to see Anna, he rose dejectedly from his seat and shuffled down towards the exit at the end of the platform. 

Kristoff bumped into the shoulders of strangers in passing, muttering apologies as he went. Just as he neared the staircase to the street level concourse, someone walked directly into his chest. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, I- _Kris?_ ”

Kristoff’s mouth fell open as his eyes began to focus on the woman he had collided with, his heart beating madly.

_**“Anna?”** _


	4. Chapter 4

Kristoff swore his head had detached from his neck and was currently floating towards the ceiling of Waterloo station. _Anna is alive!_ _Anna is okay and my chest doesn’t feel like it may implode at any moment and she is standing in front of me and - **oh my legs feel a bit like jelly.**_

He struggled to force his massive grin into a polite smile. Anna distractedly swept her fringe across her face as her eyes rose to meet his. Then she proceeded to burst into tears. 

_Wait, what? No. Oh no no no no no. Anna clearly is not okay._ Kristoff instinctively moved an arm up to comfort her before pulling it back. 

“Anna? Are you alright?”

Anna managed a laugh. “I don’t think I am, no.”

“I know it’s not really my place, but,” Kristoff battled the urge to sweep her up in his arms and never let go, “do you want to talk about it?”

His heart sped up as her lips curled into a faint smile, fresh tears splashing down her cheeks as she gave a small nod. “Come on, I know somewhere not far.”

Anna wound her way hurriedly to a quiet, relaxed pub down an alley off the main road, Kristoff shuffling nervously behind her. It’s a world away from the bustling tube station as they sink into the leather booth, the scent of stale hops clinging to the varnished tabletop. 

“What can I get you?” Kristoff flushed scarlet at the toad that had clearly replaced all semblance of his voice in favour of its abrupt creaking.

“Guinness, please,” Kristoff’s heart flipping in his chest at the way vowels spilled off Anna’s tongue. _God, how I’ve missed that intonation._

They stared into their pints. Kristoff fidgeted with his change, pound coins clicking hollowly. 

“Gerda’s dead.” Anna squeaked softly, lifting her drink carefully to her lips. The sadness in her eyes plunged his heart into ice, stopping all movement and stealing his breath. He stared at her, mouth agape. 

“Elsa got a call late Sunday night she was fading fast and we were on a train the next morning. We made it in time to,” Anna’s voice faded to a whisper “To say goodbye.”

“God Anna, I’m so sorry. You’ve said she was like a mother to you both,” Kristoff winced at his own words, “I’m just so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I’m sorry for bumping into you and bursting into tears, like.” Anna attempted a smile that only flickered briefly. “It’s just.. here it’s different. Back home we were with friends and I didn’t have to pretend to be alright.”

Kristoff nodded, fingertips pulsing around his pint glass. _Say something, you massive numpty._

“To cap it all I ran into my ex-fella. Things got right chopsy. He had the nerve to try and pressure me into selling the house. Wants the land to turn into a shopping centre or some nonsense.” Anna took a long swig of her beer.

“Insensitive prick.” Kristoff made a note to ask Anna what chopsy meant at a more opportune time. 

“Definitely. Anyway, thanks for letting me go on.” 

“Of course. I wish I could help somehow.”

“Seeing a friendly face is a great help, Kris.” Anna reached her hand towards his, giving his fingers a quick squeeze before moving to drain her glass. 

Her touch was the equivalent of staring into the high beams of an oncoming car. _Brain, tongue, help me out with words here, damnit._

“Weird to run into you at Waterloo, I never see you there.”

 _Shit. Fucking **shit**. _ How am I going to tell her without sounding like a stalker?

“I uh..,” _Spit it out, Bjorgman._ “Listen Anna, I’m sure this will sound ridiculous seeing as we don’t really know each other at all and everything, but I was worried about you.” He raised his eyes to meet hers, dreading her reaction. 

Anna stared, blue eyes dawning with recognition at his words. 

“And now I’m sure I’ve officially creeped you out. I’ll leave you alone.” Kristoff stood up, feet leaden, preparing to shuffle to the door. _That’s it, then._

“Kris!” Anna’s hand was around his arm, pulling him back towards the booth. “Get back here.”

His stomach was apparently in gymnastics training for the Olympics as he sat back down, sweat beginning to bead on the back of his neck. 

“You were worried about **_me?_** The mad Welsh girl who talks your ear off on the tube every day?” Anna asked, incredulous. 

“Yes. I quite like having my ear talked off. Wouldn’t mind making a regular thing of it.” _Wow, that was smooth. Have you ever actually strung together a sentence before?_

“By me in particular, you mean?” Anna was grinning now, eyes capturing some of their old sparkle. 

“Just you, yeah.” Kristoff dared to smile back, lips no longer numb.

“Catch my hand, then and let’s go for a proper meal. Where’s good for a first date?”


End file.
